The new ancestral temple of the Meng family was completed and built on the Ganshan Mountain on the outskirts of Luoyang, which was separated from the city center by only a moat.

The weeds on the road up the mountain have been cut down by the little guys, creating a dirt step, Meng Jinghuai protected Shen Zhihe all the way to open the way for her, but it was not too rugged.

In the ancestral ancestral hall, Shen Zhihe half closed his eyes, standing beside Meng Jinghuai, silent.

Incense and candle tributes, melons and fruits paper ingots, the golden Buddha on the hall is kind and looks down on the world, and the lower side is displayed in place in turn, which is the ancestors of the Meng family and the descendants who sacrificed on the battlefield for generations.

The bells and drums flying in his ears, the invited lama Muyu vibrating, and Shen Zhihe glanced at it lightly, which was the trembling of Bodhi's refuge.

"The sixteenth generation grandson of the Meng family - Meng Jinghuai and his wife pay homage."

Meng Jinghuai and Shen Zhihe stepped forward, knelt down on the futon in front of the case, and took the three incense sticks handed by the lama.

"The Shen family knows the crane, married to the wife of the Meng family, and now the ancestors are present, may the ancestors bless the two of them for a long time, and continue the incense of the Meng family's heirs."

Shen Zhihe's eyes were filled with white mist, the wind was blowing candles, and the light was beating and treacherous, she followed Meng Jing's arms and kowtowed, and inserted the three incense sticks on the bronze triangle tripod.

Everyone's eyes gathered, half sounded, the incense was not broken, and Shen Zhihe breathed a sigh of relief without a trace, but with an unknown meaning.

"Entering the jade ceremony—"

The old clansman guarding the ancestral hall hunched his back slightly, and at the same time as the lama's salute fell, the carving pen in his hand was just finished, and it was completed in one go.

Shen Zhihe's eyes flashed slightly, and after the sound entered her ears, she precipitated in her heart, and she glanced sideways, just in front of Meng Jinghuai's same gaze.

I don't know how long I've been watching her.

Meng Jinghuai rubbed the mellow Buddha beads with his fingertips, and after his emotions tumbled into the sea, he went around and around and finally returned to the original point, only when the two of them retreated to the side to watch the other nephews salute, they quietly blocked Shen Zhihe's side, and his voice was meaningful:

"Ah He, in this way, you are really the wife of my Meng family."

When Shen Zhihe heard this, she let the cold wind blow on the mountain, touching the skin, cold to the bones, and she made a breath sound without a trace, and replied with the word "um".

The two of them exchanged eyebrows, but they didn't know that they were all looked at by the second elder of the Meng family who was standing on the other side.

"Look, there are no rules in front of the Buddha and the ancestors." Mrs. Meng was cold-eyed, half-hiding people's hearts, "In the end, it is from the outer room, and it can't raise a serious temperament under the name of the wife." ”

General Meng's temples were dyed with frost, but his back was still straight, and he looked at the ancestors on the column without squinting: "Woman's opinion." ”

"It's time for you to knock on your arms," Mrs. Meng snorted lightly, looking at her husband who had lived for half his life, "The ancestors are all watching, the grandson of the Meng family, how can he be fascinated by a woman." ”

General Meng fixed his eyes on the rows of wooden cards, his expression was solemn, his eyes were full of profundity, and he could only hear the six words of his wife, "The ancestors are watching", and his heart was stagnant.

He put his hand on the sword at his waist, this sword has been with him for decades, in the past, the iron armor and the robe were draped, and the iron hoof was like a shooting star, this sword grazed the neck of a corrupt official, and also cut the enemy in the outer land.

When I got this sword back then, Ziwei Xing was still orthodox.

Old General Meng held the hilt of his sword tightly, his face was fierce, and he muttered in a deep voice, as if asking himself: "Yes, the ancestors are all watching." ”

Therefore, the hearts of men are to serve the country first and then to the family, and the ancestors should know their own choices.

At this time, the lama was already chanting, and Mrs. Meng couldn't hear what the people around her were saying clearly, so she didn't pay attention and concentrated on listening to the scriptures.

Shen Zhihe and Meng Jinghuai followed the old clansman who guarded the ancestral hall out of the inner hall of the ancestral hall, and the old man respectfully led the way in front of him, filled with smoke, and only when he arrived in the inner hall did his anger dissipate a little.

Shen Zhihe put down his handkerchief and looked at the painter on the other end.

"Young master, madam, this is a painter specially invited by the old lady to paint, so that the slave can be tied to the ancestral shrine for you."

The old man finished speaking, saluted, walked to the painter and whispered a few words, and then went out.

The inner hall was quiet, and the painter only bowed his hand, glanced at Shen Zhihe invisibly, and bowed his head: "Please take a seat." ”

Meng Jinghuai carefully stroked the incense ash on the bench, motioned to Shen Zhihe, and waited for her to sit down, and then he sat next to her.

Shen Zhihe noticed that the two were too close, and just wanted to move to the side, but his bare hand was touched by the people around him, Meng Jinghuai's eyes were deep: "When husband and wife enter the painting, they should show their affection." ”

After that, he didn't look at her anymore, and looked at the painter, and his hands were three-pointed, clasping his soft hands tightly, and he couldn't break free.

The wind outside the curtain sounded, Shen Zhihe was born with cold hands and feet, but at this time, Meng Jinghuai's hand covering her warmed up a little bit, and he put his hand into his heart.

"Madame, please." The painter lowered his eyes and studied the material.

Shen Zhihe lowered his eyebrows and bit his lip, raised his eyes to look at the painter, and smiled gently, like the gorgeous peach blossoms in March on a melting spring day, and like the brightness of the melting ice and snow melting in the clouds.

Meng Jinghuai caught a glimpse of it, and the corners of his eyes were glazed with emotion.

The flame of the candle was bright and dark, and the painter smoothed the paper silk, stared at the two of them for a while, and then lifted the pen to dip the wind and moon.

The pen is powerful and powerful, depicting the eyebrows that contain endless elegance for the woman, and also showing the blood of Jin Ge Iron Horse for the man.

The joint painting is completed, and the beautiful people depend on each other, and they are on the extreme.

"Please pay the young master." The painter put down his pen, looked up, and stepped aside.

Meng Jinghuai got up and walked to draw the case, Shen Zhihe followed, he stood on the side of the case, took out the seal of the Meng family, dotted cinnabar, pressed it with his hand, and waited for a while.

Shen Zhihe stood up and looked at it, but suddenly felt that the curl on the outside of the lanqi on his waist was gently put into the matter, Shen Zhihe froze, and then remained silent, slightly lifted the soft wrist bone under the sleeve, and stuffed it into his waist.

"Alright." Meng Jinghuai put away the seal and turned around, and glanced at Shen Zhihe, "Go out, put lights on the moat in the evening, and return to Huai'an tomorrow." ”

"Okay." Shen Zhihe's heart hanging in his throat fell, and his words dragged on slightly long and light.

Meng Jinghuai gestured to the painter and turned around and walked out of the lobby, Shen Zhihe also walked up, only when he passed by the painter, his eyes narrowed, as if something had fallen from his sleeves, and he was covered by his skirt.

There was a storm in her eyes, and when she raised her eyes again, she was no longer waveless.

The backs of the two disappeared outside the curtain of the inner hall.

The painter's sleeve shirt stroked the scroll, and after a long time, when the paint was dry, he gently rolled up the painting, tied it with red silk, and put it on the side of the desk.

The candle flame on the side of the desk flickered and made a slight candle cracking sound, lighting up the Zhu signature ink characters reflected in the painter's eyes-

It's signed.

The charcoal fire in the stove made a slight squeaking sound, and the heat that came out of the silence turned into a white mist, and the silence of the inner hall gave the cold outline an inaudible sigh, and it quickly returned to its normal appearance.